Tag Archive for 'Gang-rape'

Delhi, monster metropolis

William Dalrymple in Newsweek:

As the city has expanded it has swallowed up hundreds of ancient villages, where people’s lives and attitudes have changed little since the Mughal Middle Ages. It is the cheek-by-jowl coexistence of a deeply conservative patriarchal rural society alongside the very different world and moral norms of a modern urban city that has helped create the tensions that resulted in the recent tragedy.

These enveloped villages can be sad places. There are two near my house: Shahpur Jat and Khirki, both of which have been swallowed alive. Shorn of their fields and exploited by corrupt bureaucrats and unscrupulous real-estate agents, the villagers now find themselves besieged. Shahpur Jat has undergone a “boutiquification,” and its ponds full of leathery water buffaloes are now bizarrely edged with designer shops—which are visited by women in short skirts, high heels, and Dior sunglasses—while the villagers remain deprived of even the most basic facilities.

Yet these villages, with their old courtyard houses and ancient ­ruins, are one of the reasons I love this city as much as I do. Of the great cities of the world, only Rome and Cairo can even begin to rival Delhi for the sheer volume and density of his­toric remains. More

A mother’s story of the teenager involved in gang-rape

“To India he’s a monster, the juvenile who committed a horrific crime. But to his mother he’s still Bhura, the boy she was forced to abandon at 11 years old.” Andrew Buncombe in The Independent:

His mother lies shrunken and despairing, shrouded in blankets on a straw mattress. For her, the young man who went by the nick-name “Bhura”, or “brown”, was her first-born joy, a flash of happiness in a hard-edged world until she was forced to send him away to work in Delhi at the age of 11. For several years afterwards she had no idea he was alive or dead.

But to the world, gripped by the recent rape and murder of a Delhi student, the 17-year-old bus attendant from Uttar Pradesh represents little less than the essence of evil. In briefings to the media, police have suggested this teenager was among the most savage of the six attackers, luring the student and her male companion aboard a bus with his “sing-song” call before twice raping her and internally assaulting her with an iron bar.

Indeed, his alleged viciousness was so bad that the family of the murdered student has said he ought not to be treated as a juvenile as demanded by law, but, if convicted, should instead face the death penalty. “He is well aware of what is right and wrong,” the student’s brother told reporters. More:

Why I am culpable


Sujan Dutta from New Delhi in The Telegraph:

I learnt at the barricades today that the personal is the political. So I am culpable. Culpable of the gang rape and murder of a co-citizen.

 I am culpable because I am a man. Because I have encouraged lewd jokes, sexist jibes and dirty talk about women.

 I am culpable because I don’t dare to stop the flurry of bad language around me every day, in almost every gathering, that have to do with genitalia, of wanting to do this to someone’s mother or someone’s sister, knowing fully well that it is not for the motherhood or the sisterhood but in the full knowledge that whoever she is, she must be a woman.

So I will say today from the police barricades of New Delhi and from among the tens of hundreds who walked on, sat on and slept on the roads and sidewalks of Jantar Mantar, that I am culpable of nurturing the environment and climate in which such torment can be inflicted on a girl.

I am culpable because as a student in Calcutta’s Jadavpur University, I once cracked a lewd joke on an eccentric teacher who was so deeply engaged in scholarship that she did not care what she wore and how she looked.

I am culpable because I have shouted at my mother during quarrels, more than once: “Why are Bengali women so difficult?”

I am culpable because I have girlfriends who have taken abuse in male company that I could not strike out against not only because I was scared but also because I thought it was the done thing to meld into the environment. More:

In memory of the unknown citizen: Shuddhabrata Sengupta in The Hindu:

We may never know her name. But not every memory needs a name or a pile of stone. Her memorial need not claim space on a city street, or square, or on the river-front. Let the well-known Leader and the Unknown Soldier have their real estate, but for the Unknown Citizen, let us not fire gun salutes, fly flags at half-mast or build portals and pedestals. And let us not for even a moment imagine that instituting police measures against the people the Prime Minister calls ‘foot-loose migrants’ will mean anything remotely resembling justice.

We can think about what the contours of enduring justice can be without being hangmen. Only safe cities, safe towns and safe villages, and freedom for all men and women will mean justice. Justice does not come from the gallows. It springs from a freedom from fear, and the gallows only perpetuate fear. Hangmen will turn the bullies who rape into the cowards who will automatically murder so that there may not be a trace of their rape. It will make fathers who rape their daughters into fathers who rape and murder their daughters. Capital punishment will lead to less, not more convictions for rape and heinous sexual violence. That can never lead us to justice. More:

No turning back now: The Hindu carried a front page editorial:

If anything, the past week has shown how so many of the framers and implementers of the law in India are themselves complicit in the very culture of patriarchy that produces, sanctions and makes excuses for violence against women. Their complicity lies not just in the foul statements we have heard but in the silences and compromises of senior politicians and officials who have presided over the multiple organ failure of the Indian state, a failure which denies security and justice to women across the country.

For anonymousNilanjana Roy on her blog:

I did not know the name of the girl in the bus, through these last few days. She had a name of her own–it was not Amanat, Damini or Nirbhaya, names the media gratuitously gave her, as though after the rape, she had been issued a new identity. I don’t need to know her name now, especially if her family doesn’t want to share their lives and their grief with us. I think of all the other anonymous women whose stories don’t make it to the front pages, when I think of this woman; I think of the courage that is forced on them, the way their lives are warped in a different direction from the one they had meant to take. Don’t tell me her name; I don’t need to know it, to cry for her.

Dear Abhijit babu: The Society of Painted and Dented Ladies responds: Rajyasree Sen in Firstpost:

I am writing to you in my capacity of General Secretary of the Society of Painted and Dented Ladies of India. First of all, I would like to state that I was most touched that you have noticed our presence in your midst. For long, we the Painted and Dented Ladies have suffered on the fringes of society, waiting to be recognised – especially by the likes of political luminaries such as you. This honour from a sitting MP, has given me inestimable joy. Not to forget that you are our venerable president, Pranab Mukherjee’s very own son. I stand up in respect, sir.

Delhi gang-rape victim narrates the tale of horror

New Delhi police fire water cannon at rape protest

In The Hindu:

The victim purportedly told the SDM that around 9.30 p.m. while she and her friend were standing at a bus stop at Munirka, they were called into the bus by the juvenile accused Rahul (name changed), who told them that the bus would go towards Palam. On entering the vehicle, the victims found that in all there were six others besides them in the vehicle.

A few minutes into the ride, her friend got suspicious as the bus had deviated from the supposed route and the other occupants had shut the door. When he objected, the six accused taunted them, asking what they were doing together so late in the night.

A scuffle then ensued between the software engineer and others. The 28-year-old was hit on the head by Ram Singh. The woman was then dragged to the rear end of the vehicle by Rahul and Akshay Singh.

In her statement, the woman said that after hitting her friend, who fell unconscious, Ram Singh went to the back of the bus and was the first to force himself on her. It is learnt that the girl had heard some names while the attackers were calling out to each other. More and here